That Old Familiar Feeling
by CrewsLife
Summary: Set between the events of the second and third game, Max isn't done in New York City quite yet. Rated M for language and other theme


**Chapter I: Out of the Frying Pan**

I was sitting in a bombed-out shithole that some people tried to call a bar but that was because there was no place else I hadn't been to yet. It was to the point where I'd have been surprised if every bar all around New York City had a "Do Not Serve" sign posted with my face on it for fear that I'd drink them completely dry by the night's end. I was doing what else but reminiscing on the past. What I had lost.

"_You find your answer yet?" _

"_What do you mean?"_ I asked.

"_You know what they say when you're drinking…trying to find all the answers at the bottom of a glass; or bottle in your case." _

"_Huh…no. Still looking, pal." _I replied.

I wasn't in the mood to talk, much less make terrible jokes with the bartender, who I very much doubt even had a license for this joint. But what the hell did I care? He served alcohol therefore he was alright in my mind.

I had started additional detective work with the NYPD involving certain persons of interest in various cases ranging from drugs and kidnapping, murder, to white collar crimes. Sometimes they were all in the same. The day was Wednesday. Hump day. But the way this day was going to eventually turn out, that 'hump' might as well have been Mount God Damn Everest.

"_Max! Jesus, it's like trying to track down Houdini…" _

"_If only it were that easy. What the hell do you need? I'm off-duty, remember?" _

"_Yeah, yeah, yeah. But you're a detective too, supposed to be available 24-7. The bad guys never sleep." _

"_I wish they would. I'd like to get some myself." _

"_Heh…sleep when you're dead, buddy." _

A nice sentiment, a very wise one too for someone his age I might add.

The fucking new guy; Richie Nolan. Technically, the new kid was my partner. Not that I needed one, but that's government bureaucracy for you. Can't be trusted enough to be on my own but also too valuable to not have around. I used the term 'partner' very loosely. The kid was a watchdog more than anything else. But the partnership wasn't all bad. I got to do the job, and in return he did all the paperwork for the courts and all the damn bureaucrats that I could never be bothered with before.

"_I got a call from the Captain. He wants us to take a look at something that came up a few days ago."_

"_By us, you mean me?" _

"_If that's what helps you sleep at night, then sure." _

The kid had wit and a good sense of humor. I had to give him that.

"_So what is it then, numb nuts?" _

"_There's a suspicion that a new trafficking ring has popped up. Think its operating somewhere out in Red Hook." _

"_What kind of ring? Drugs…human beings…what?"_

"_No idea. But that's the exciting part, isn't it?" _

"_Yeah…practically cummin' in my pants as we speak." _

I needed another drink. From the sounds of it, this wasn't going to be your average run-of-the-mill open and shut case. We decided to go ahead and check it out. Normally I never let anyone else drive but in this case I couldn't help but ponder whether it would be wise move if I got get behind the wheel. Shit, I was still a better driver drunk than ninety-five percent of the population was sober.

"_You sure you want to drive?" _Nolan asked, ever concerned for my well-being.

"_I'm fine, just get in." _

As I was driving across town I couldn't help but think to myself what I was about to get myself into. Obviously having not learned my lesson about trying to do the job while on the sauce, I mistakenly figured it couldn't go anywhere but up from that point on. The kid was reading information off the paperwork he picked up to me at a mile a minute. His words were falling on deaf ears; I gave up on all that shit myself a long time ago. I much preferred to go into a situation head-first and then figure my way out in the process. Nolan was young, by the book, and all about making the right moves at the right time. I was older, long since past giving a shit what the book had to say… and all about making the wrong moves at the wrong time.

Red Hook wasn't exactly a luxurious part of Brooklyn and the living style was everything but comparable to an apartment on Park Avenue. This neighborhood was somewhat known as the crack capital of America. As we continued to drive on through the neighborhood, needless to say, lived up to its reputation. On every corner there was a deadbeat lying down in the filth who looked like he thought he was on a whole 'nother fucking planet he was so far gone. The gang influence in this hood was undoubtedly superior. The cops didn't have much reason to come out here because their presence disturbed the peace more than their presence did keeping it. Unfortunately, we had no other choice but to head in ourselves. I elected to not call for back up because the first sight of a patrol car would've stirred the hornet's nest like you wouldn't believe. I thought we might've had better luck if it was just the two of us and we could get in and out of there fast. Boy was I wrong…

"_So, this is the place…" _

"_You don't sound too sure of yourself, kid." _

"_Well, a stroll through the Red Hook Projects at night isn't exactly my idea of a good time." _

I couldn't but at least chuckle a little bit. We hadn't even gotten out of the car yet and he was already starting to shit his pants.

"_Just follow me. We'll make this quick, ask what we need to ask, and then get the hell out of there. And don't go around flashin' your badge either. The color of our skin already gives us away. No need to make it worse." _

It was a primarily black gang neighborhood. As a middle-aged drunken cop and twenty-something year old wannabe hero we stuck out like two sore thumbs. As we approached the main entrance to the project building we were already getting dirty looks and violent hand gestures. Somehow, a part of me didn't think they were waving to say 'Hello'…

"_What's the floor and room number?" _

"_Ahh…hold on. It's on here somewhere…"_

"_Jesus Christ. Remember what I said about making this quick?"_

"_Yeah, yeah, yeah. 5__th__ floor, room 12." _

"_See, that wasn't so hard was it? …. C'mon." _

I signaled the kid to join me in the elevator which stunk like week old piss inside. It was the better option between climbing five flights of stairs though. I wasn't sober enough to do that.

"_Alright, this way." _

I pointed to the right when the elevator opened. There were two guests to greet us as we arrived on the floor, neither of them friendlier than any of the previous residents we saw.

"_I'm gonna knock twice. So listen, if you hear anything rattling inside, it means they're already running and there ain't shit I'm gonna do about it. They open the door and __**then**__ run? We gotta chase them. But don't let them open the door and then close it on us." _

"_What if they shoot at us?"_

"_Shoot back." _

I didn't realize it until later, but for how relatively calm I was in this situation it exemplified that I had done this far too many times than I actually cared to admit. I ended up knocking three times and finally got someone to answer the door. Only I was expecting a male to answer instead of his drugged up bimbo.

"_You the po-lice?" _

"_Eh, something like that. Is Jimmy Raines around?" _

"_I don't know." _

I had already been dragged out of the bar, so I wasn't exactly in the mood to be bullshitted.

"_Yeah, we're gonna need to talk to him." _

I jammed the door with my foot before she could close it and stepped inside, much to her chagrin. Her yelling was enough to incite a riot but unbeknownst to me, I had already started one. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a dark silhouette making a break for the fire escape window and just like that, the instinct took over and I chased after him with Nolan not too far behind.

The thing was with all of these decade old buildings and how little upkeep they received, they didn't exactly stay in very good shape. Before I could even make my way over to the window I heard the sound of metal going crashing down. The guy didn't even make it one floor before the whole damn fire escape gave way and went crashing to the ground.

"_Shiiiiittt." _

Of course with the attitude that this neighborhood held, I was now apparently at fault for the sudden death of Jimmy Raines. As soon as she realized what had happened, the girl suddenly went ballistic and the two thugs we ran into when we first arrived on the floor through the elevator came in to see what all the fuss was about. As the girl, through all of her blubber and tears, tried to explain to the two gangbangers what had happened, all I remember was the next thing I had heard.

"_GUN!" _

One of the assholes pulled his piece out and started to point it at me when Nolan pulled out his own and dropped the guy in one fell swoop. I had no choice but to drop the other guy myself and then to figure a way out ourselves. I had a feeling the elevator was no longer an option.

"_What the fuck just happened?!" _Nolan asked as we made our way to the main staircase.

"_We just got thrown got back into the frying pan, kid." _


End file.
